


Reckless

by LeoDios



Category: Football RPF, Sports RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Boys Kissing, FC Barcelona, M/M, Neymar saga, a little angsty a little fluffy a little smutty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-18
Updated: 2017-08-18
Packaged: 2018-12-17 00:06:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11839860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeoDios/pseuds/LeoDios
Summary: How many times had they been close, so close to something, something crazy happening? How many times had they gone back to the locker room, sweating, full of adrenaline after some momentous win, holding each other, laughing, naked bodies pressed together? How many times had a touch lingered too long, a kiss on the cheek been a little too close to the mouth? How many times had their eyes met across the room, holding on for a little too long, ending with one of them biting down on their lower lip and turning away? How many times had they, in a crowd of their teammates' bodies, found each other's hands and clasped them together a bit too tight?





	Reckless

**Author's Note:**

> I swear I wasn't going to do this. But I listened to this song and somehow it gave me Neymessi vibes and I had to write this:
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=trfleSYIEcM
> 
> It's just before Neymar leaves for Paris and he spends some time with Leo. I don't think it's especially angsty considering how super angsty it COULD be, but I am sorry if this makes anyone sad!
> 
> Anyway hope you enjoy it, please let me know what you think in the comments! <3

"Don't laugh."

 

Neymar took a sip of his ice cold beer and cast a sidelong glance at Leo.

 

Leo was holding his own bottle of beer, a shy - maybe a little embarrassed - smile playing about his lips. His skin was flushed. He had terrible posture.

 

"I'm not," he said, eventually. But he sounded like he was suppressing a giggle. Geri had made some crack about Neymar's ridiculous, shredded t-shirt before leaving the room and going outside, leaving him alone with Leo.

 

"I had no choice, everything else is packed," he said, biting his lip immediately in regret.

 

Not that not mentioning it would make a difference. They were sitting in his living room, and it was tellingly bare. Most of his stuff was already on the way to Paris, the rest in boxes.

 

He glanced over at Leo again. Leo's smile had disappeared. He turned to look at Neymar. 

 

Neymar closed his eyes. He wasn't sure if it was tears making Leo's eyes glisten wetly, or just tipsiness. He didn't want to look, didn't want to find out.

 

To be honest, Leo seemed smaller and more vulnerable than Neymar had ever seen him. He'd always been so strong. Even after the unbearable losses they'd shared together - and the ones that were his alone, with Argentina - Leo was never like this. And it's not like he said anything, did anything. It was just in his general air, his general posture. Neymar found it oddly touching that Leo didn't try to hide it. He stuck by him, physically close, not afraid to show that he was trying to make the most of their time left together.

 

Where was this Leo for the last two, three years?

 

How many times had they been close, so close to  _something_ , something crazy happening? How many times had they gone back to the locker room, sweating, full of adrenaline after some momentous win, holding each other, laughing, naked bodies pressed together? How many times had a touch lingered too long, a kiss on the cheek been a little too close to the mouth? How many times had their eyes met across the room, holding on for a little too long, ending with one of them biting down on their lower lip and turning away? How many times had they, in a crowd of their teammates' bodies, found each other's hands and clasped them together a bit too tight?

 

How many times?

 

Yet nothing had happened. Everyone talked about Neymar and Messi's on and off field chemistry, but they'd always held back with each other. Now, Leo seemed unexpectedly open, seemingly willing to let himself be hurt. It worried Neymar. No, it  _terrified_ him. He'd already hurt him, he was already breaking apart so much.

 

He noticed that Leo had somehow moved closer to him on the sofa, and was leaning his body closer to his. They were almost touching.

 

To do something now would be supremely wrong. And reckless. Wouldn't it?

 

"I like it," Leo said, his voice a little hoarse.

 

Neymar had forgotten what they were talking about.

 

"What?"

 

"I always liked your style," Leo said, thoughtfully, "it's not for everyone, obviously. But I like how it's so... _you."_

Neymar grinned.

 

"Okay," he said, swinging his legs up onto the sofa and pressing his feet into Leo's thigh, "I can't tell if you're being sarcastic." He could feel Leo's thigh muscles flex under his bare feet.

 

He leaned forward and placed his bottle on the table. His movement, and the friction where they were connected, made Neymar shudder. He had to,  _needed_ to, move his feet. But he couldn't.

 

"I'm serious," Leo said, glancing over with a little lopsided smile. 

 

Neymar suddenly felt drunk. How many had he had? Not so many that he should be drunk. Where was everyone else? He'd invited over Geri, Leo, and Luis, just to hang out before he left. He'd been to see Rafa earlier. It was hard, all of it.

 

He heard footsteps and Geri appeared at the doorway. He didn't come in. Looked at them as if he'd caught them making out.

 

"Luis and I are taking off," he said.

 

Neymar shifted his legs and quickly jumped up, but Geri stretched out a hand.

 

"No," he said, "no goodbyes yet. We're seeing you in the morning, right? You're coming by?"

 

Neymar nodded, feeling miserable. 

 

"Okay, I'm off. Luis is already outside. We'll see you tomorrow. Ciao, Leo."

 

And then they were alone, totally alone.

 

Neymar turned around to face Leo. He was just about to say something casual and unimportant, but Leo looked at him with intense, hot eyes. He leaned back, seemingly expectantly.

 

He  _could_.

 

He could just go with his tipsiness, his impulsiveness. He had that in him. He could lean down and just...just start something. It would be irresponsible though. Here they were at the end, after all.

 

He moved Leo's beer bottle away, and sat down on the coffee table facing him. Leo sat up and leaned forward. Somehow they reached for each other and clasped hands.

 

"Leo..."

 

"What?"

 

It was whispered. Neymar turned Leo's hands in his, facing his palms out, and tracing random patterns on them. He could feel Leo shivering in response. He turned his hands again, staring at the fingers, the bitten nails. He pushed his fingers through the gaps in his fingers, staring at his brown skin next to his pale skin.

 

"I just..."

 

"What?"

 

He shook his head.

 

"Here we are," he said. To his horror he started to shake, and tears welled up in his eyes. If there was one thing he wasn't going to do, it was cry. Not in front of Leo, not now.

 

"Yes, and?"

 

"At the end, you know? We're at the end, so we shouldn't..."

 

It hung in the air for a bit.

 

"So let's go back to the start."

 

No hesitation. None.

 

As soon as Leo said the words, they were crushed together with a great, irresistible force, lips desperately seeking lips.

 

Their teeth clashed and they both laughed out, tumbled down together on the sofa. Neymar pulled Leo to him, pressed him possessively to his body. Placed a kiss on his forehead.

 

"We can't," he murmured, "we shouldn't."

 

"Hmm," Leo said, turning his face up towards him. 

 

Neymar kept repeating how they couldn't, they shouldn't, but he kept kissing him anyway. On the mouth, on the cheeks, on the forehead, down his neck. And Leo opened out to him, letting him, making him.

 

Why hadn't they before? Why hadn't they ever kissed like this? Neymar put a hand on the back of Leo's neck, leaned him down, kissed him deeply, pushed his tongue deep inside. He felt his cock stirring as Leo sucked on his tongue.

 

The funny thing was that they had been close, so close, so many times. 

 

He pushed his hand under Leo's t-shirt, stroking over the warm, muscled body, letting his fingers roam over his hard nipples. Leo released Neymar's tongue and moaned.

 

Neymar laid him down on the sofa and leaned over him. Their tongues battled, lapping together, as they both tried to get out of their clothes as quickly as possible.

 

And now. 

 

Here they were, naked with each other. Neymar leaned down to kiss him again, to suck on that jumping pulse on his neck. But he found himself collapsed on Leo, forehead pressing on his shoulder, and - to his horror - tears falling from his eyes.

 

Leo's hand cupped his neck.

 

"Hey."

 

He looked up, into Leo's eyes.

 

He had this look in his eyes, hooded, heavy lids, that  _kind_  look he sometimes had when a fan was freaking out in his presence, or a teammate was suffering a crisis of confidence. He was so vulnerable, yet so strong. Stronger than him.

 

Neymar felt ashamed. 

 

He wiped his eyes with the back of his hands.

 

"Sorry."

 

Leo just smiled and shook his head.

 

"You think we shouldn't, hmm?"

 

"I  _want_ to."

 

"And?"

 

"Isn't it a bit...irresponsible? Reckless?"

 

"What is?"

 

"To start this?"

 

"But we're not starting anything."

 

Leo reached out and put a finger in Neymar's mouth. Neymar moaned and closed his eyes. He became very aware of Leo's cock, hard and pressed against his hip. Leo's finger was slowly thrusting in and out of his mouth. 

 

"Be reckless," he said, his voice low and sexy.

 

Neymar moaned louder around his finger.

 

"Be young and dumb, come on."

 

Feeling helpless with lust, Neymar leaned down into Leo's chest, moving to grind his cock against Leo's. 

 

"Just for tonight."

 

By the time Leo turned him over and spread his ass cheeks with his strong hands, Neymar was overwhelmed and disoriented. 

 

"Please Leo," he whispered, not sure what he was begging for.

 

But Leo knew. He leaned down and pressed his tongue against Neymar's entrance. Pressing in, pulling out, until he'd opened him up little by little. And then some more with lube, and with his fingers, until Neymar was a writhing, shivering mess.

 

He turned him over on his back then and stared into his eyes. How do you keep looking at someone who stares at you like that, with a gaze hard and unflinching? Neymar used all his willpower to not look away. He could see Leo's flushed chest rising and falling a little. His cock was hard and big. Neymar reached out and closed his hand over it, and Leo closed his eyes and sighed.

 

In those moments Neymar almost felt like his senses were heightened. He could feel the blood moving under Leo's skin. He noticed how his eyelashes were long and damp. He pulled him down to him and they kissed again, this time slow, more lips than tongue.

 

When Leo pushed his cock inside him, it hurt. But he pulled him closer, wanting to feel as much as possible of Leo inside him. He wound his legs around his waist. Leo braced himself on the arm of the sofa and thrust in and out of him.

 

The room was silent. But because it was so bare, there were weird echoes from time to time, something eerie to it. The sun had disappeared and there was that still, twilight atmosphere inside the room. It felt like they were outside, under the sky.

 

Every second was beautiful, heavy, light, painful, pleasurable all at once.

 

Neymar let go of everything, every fear, every doubt. He might have been crying, cursing, or moaning, or all three. Leo's cock slid in and out of him easily now. He bit down on his shoulder, kneaded his ass, urging him in deeper and deeper.

 

Leo withdrew and sat up, pulling him up. Neymar was straddling him now, feeling Leo's cock even deeper inside him. They gripped on to each other, bodies fused together, Leo's cock grinding in and out.

 

" _Oh, Leo!"_ Neymar cried out, as his cock rubbed up and down against Leo's stomach. It was exquisite, and it was unbearable.

 

"Didn't you say we shouldn't?" Leo suddenly said, looking up at him with a sly smile.

 

Neymar laughed out.

 

"Damn you!"

 

Leo's face turned serious again, and he pushed Neymar off him.

 

"Maybe we shouldn't," he said.

 

_What the fuck?_

But then he was turning Neymar around, getting him on his hands and knees.

 

"Maybe it's a terrible idea."

 

Who knew he could get even more turned on than he already was? But he was getting there. Neymar felt like he was about to explode, Leo's words arousing him to an unbearable pitch.

 

Leo grabbed hold of his hips and pressed his cock inside him again. 

 

" _Please,"_ Neymar whispered, " _please."_

"But it's such a dumb idea. So reckless."

 

He thrust in and out, his fingers leaving bruises on his skin. He fucked him hard, going faster and faster, until it was all a blur. Neymar couldn't move, couldn't do anything, just stayed on his hands and knees taking it. He felt Leo's hand curl around his cock.

 

And then he exploded finally, with a loud cry, spilling all over Leo's hand. He could feel Leo bucking into him, shuddering, and his cum filling him up.

 

Leo's lips kissed the back of his neck softly, so softly it was barely there. He pulled out. Kept kissing him on the back, over his shoulder, until Neymar turned around and looked into his hazy eyes. 

 

Leo kissed him on the lips. It felt reassuring, safe somehow.

 

"I love you. I love you so much."

 

Leo was smiling, leaning over him.

 

Wait. Who said that? Was it him or was it Leo? He felt so confused.

 

Leo was smiling wide now, looking pretty pleased and delighted.

 

He raised an amused eyebrow.

 

Oh. He'd said it.  _Fuck._

What a great idea. He'd told Leo he loved him, the night before he left for Paris. Fucking great.

 

"Oh really?" Leo said.

 

And yet - 

 

"Yes, Leo. I do. I really love you," Neymar found himself saying, in an embarrassing gush.

 

"Did I fuck you that good? Was it that amazing, huh?"

 

Leo leaned down and nipped at his lower lip and Neymar couldn't help putting his arms around him, drawing him tightly to him.

 

"It was really good," he said, "but I've always loved you."

 

_That's it. He was officially insane and had no control over the words he said._

Leo raised himself up and looked at him.

 

"Always?" he said, grinning, "you've  _always_ loved me?"

 

Neymar shrugged.

 

"Yes? I think? It's...I don't know when..."

 

"Why didn't you..." Leo stopped himself mid-sentence.

 

"Say something? Do something?"

 

"Yeah. Either."

 

"Why didn't  _you?"_

It was Leo's turn to shrug.

 

They stared at each other for a moment.

 

"You know," Leo said, cupping Neymar's face with his hand, "you know I love you too right? I..." He trailed off.

 

Neymar closed his eyes, tears streaming down his face.

 

_Dammit._

The room was completely dark now. They held each other silently.

 

"Please don't cry. Ney..."

 

"How can you be so calm?"

 

It almost came as an accusation.

 

"I don't know. I just am. I'm not worried."

 

"What's going to happen?"

 

He wanted Leo to tell him it would be okay. Everything would be fine. They'd be fine.

 

"i don't know."

 

That's not what he wanted him to say at all.

 

"We can meet every week."

 

"We could. But we won't."

 

In the end, Leo didn't even spend the night. They kissed each other for the longest time, and then he got dressed and left him. In his half-empty house. The next day he'd go and officially inform the club of his decision to leave. Say the words to his coach. Say the words to his teammates. Hug everyone. And leave forever.

 

How could they do this the night before all that happened? How reckless had they been? How stupid? Neymar leaned back on the sofa and ran his fingers over his arms, his legs, everywhere Leo's hands had been, his mouth had been. Every part he touched, he felt the ghost of Leo's corresponding touch. He smiled to himself in the dark. Giddy with the memory of it.

 

*

 

 


End file.
